


borrow the moonlight (until it is through)

by historiologies



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU, M/M, memory manipulation, memory wipes, warning: small panic attack mention in chapter 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-25 14:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17727260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historiologies/pseuds/historiologies
Summary: "By this time tomorrow, you will no longer have any memory of one Kwon Soonyoung. I hope it helps.”"Thank you, doctor. I’m sure it will.”An Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know there's already an excellent ESOTSM AU but I really wanted to try my hand at it. I know I have many WIPs but my goal is to update one at least once every two weeks. They're all finished in my head -- just have to write them all down! They'll happen eventually :)
> 
> Tags to be updated once stuff happens. Title is from the lyrics of the song "As Long As You're Mine" from the musical Wicked.

i.

Wonwoo sits. In front of him, a stack of papers.

He’s read them already. He’s signed his name on the line, in permanent black ink, multiple times.

There’s no turning back, not anymore.

“Mr. Jeon.”

He doesn’t look up, knows without question that it’s the doctor speaking with him. He had tired eyes, but very kind. You needed a well of kindness to deal with the kind of grief and agony that came through their doors everyday, Wonwoo thinks, before he nods.

“You’ve signed your consent forms, your acknowledgement of the risks of the procedure, your list of family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances we are to send the notices to. Is there anything else you need before we get ready for your procedure?”

Wonwoo looks up now, looks into those kind sad eyes. He wonders what the doctor sees when he looks at him, wonders if he knows just how deep the emptiness goes, the humiliation, the despair.

“No, Dr. Shin. I understand. I’ve read everything clearly. I’m ready.”

Dr Shin raises a subtle, sceptical eyebrow, but says nothing. He lifts the pile of papers, separates a few copies from the pile, before inserting them into an envelope. He gives Wonwoo the envelope.

“Here are your copies of the terms. Read over them again when you get home, and then dispose of them before ten o’clock tonight. Our team has already been given access by your building’s security to enter your apartment and perform the whole procedure before sunrise tomorrow morning. If you wish to cancel before ten o’clock tonight, you can just contact the number on the papers and we can cancel the whole thing, subject to forfeiture of 50% of the fees you paid.” Dr. Shin tilts his head. “I hope you understand.”

“I do,” Wonwoo replies. There is a tickle at the back of his throat, and he coughs, trying to dislodge it. He tucks the envelope into his book bag, by the side of the chair. “I’m not going to cancel.”

“Mr. Jeon,” Dr. Shin starts again, before sighing and leaning forward, placing a comforting hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” Wonwoo replies again, but softer this time. He can’t bring himself to lift his eyes. Strange.

“Very well.” Dr. Shin stands again, a melancholy tilt to his smile. “I’m afraid this will most likely be the last time we meet. But rest assured, by this time tomorrow, you will no longer have any memory of one Kwon Soonyoung.”

He raises his head, now. Dr. Shin is eyeing him thoughtfully.

“I hope it helps.”

Wonwoo blinks, before smiling politely. “Thank you, doctor. I’m sure it will.” 

He nods his head at Dr. Shin one last time, before turning and leaving his office, as silent as he’d come.


	2. Chapter 2

Wonwoo is on his way home when he hears it.

It’s music, the beats loud and the melody pleasant. It was also loud, and demanded attention.

Curious and despite the cold that’s already started to infiltrate the city, Wonwoo deviates from the path that he usually takes going home to his apartment from the bus stop. In the meters between the stop and the lobby of his apartment, there’s a small stretch of manicured green (well, green during the spring and summer months — right now it's pretty bare), a bright spot against the concrete of Seoul, and in the middle of all that, a fountain.

A small crowd has already gathered around the source of the sound, and Wonwoo joins them, walking through the warm bodies until he sees what they’re seeing — a young man with fire red hair.

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, entranced by the way he moves to the sounds emanating from the set of speakers he’d perched on the ledge of the fountain behind him. It was like watching the music become a human being, every beat hit, every twist of his body and turn of his feet matching the notes perfectly. It was incredibly impressive, and Wonwoo couldn’t help but admire the talent of the young man.

Fascinated, he walks forward until he’s at the very front of the crowd and it’s only when he sees that the young man dips low in a bow right in front of him that he realizes that the music has stopped abruptly and people were already throwing loose won into the open sack a few feet away from him.

He steps back a little, unsettled. The young man straightens and gives him a small smile, sweat dripping profusely down the sides of his face.

“Nice, uh, performance.” Wonwoo doesn’t know what to say.

The other man blinks, before his smile widens. “Thank you.”

“I, uh,” Wonwoo stutters. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, unsure about how to proceed. “I liked the song. The song you danced to.” He tugs the jacket closer around himself, self-conscious.

The other man beams, suddenly. “Thanks! I wrote it myself.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Ah. You’re clearly very talented.”

The other tilts his head, smiles. “Thank you.”

There is the smallest of awkward pauses between them, though it may have been more awkward for Wonwoo, since the other man is simply looking at him, waiting for his response. “I should go.”

Feeling embarrassed, Wonwoo turns around and continues on his way home because it’s really cold already, despite the heat that’s burning the tips of his ears.

“Wait!”

Wonwoo startles at the sound. When he looks behind him, the young man is jogging up to him, red hair bright against the cool grey of the tenements. “Yes?”

The young man stops right in front of him. He peers closely at Wonwoo, and Wonwoo feels like he’s being judged. It disconcerts him.

“I feel like I’ve met you somewhere before.”

Wonwoo snorts. “That’s a very common pick-up line, and not at all what I’d expect from a boy with red hair.”

The young man flushes, but clears his throat. “Would you let me, though?”

“Hmm?”

“Pick you up.”

Wonwoo coughs, suddenly shy. He ducks his head, trying to ignore the other man’s bright eyes. “I’d... consider it.”

The young man smiles brightly. “Cool.” He sticks his hand out. “I’m Soonyoung, Kwon Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo takes it. “I’m Wonwoo.”

//

“So… how are you doing?”

Wonwoo swallows down the noodles he’s just put in his mouth with difficulty. It tastes like shredded paper. “As good as I’ll ever be.”

Seungcheol’s mouth forms a straight line, and Wonwoo knows it’s the look that he gets when he’s trying hard to figure out what to say but is coming up empty. “I’m glad that you’re eating, though,” he quips, trying to sound encouraging. Wonwoo wants to snort. That was never his problem.

He kept himself fed. He just preferred to hole up in his room the rest of the time.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says quietly. “It’s fine. Actually, I ate before coming here.” It’s not a lie, but all of a sudden he doesn’t feel like good company. He wants nothing more than to go back up to his apartment and sink into his sheets until he falls asleep. “I’ll just take this soup to go.” He looks up at Seungcheol, imploring him with his eyes to understand.

Sighing, Seungcheol straightens in his seat and reluctantly nods. “Alright. I just wanted to check in on you.” He looks at Wonwoo, at his pale expressionless face, his hunched shoulders. “Hey, you promise to let me know if it gets too much right?”

Wonwoo blinks, looks back at Seungcheol before giving him a wan smile. “You don’t have to worry about me, hyung. I’ll be fine. I’m not going to do anything, I just… I think I just need time.”

A month is barely enough.

Seungcheol nods once, grimly. “Okay. Okay.” He stands up, searching for his wallet in his back pocket. “At least let this be my treat.” He holds up a hand at Wonwoo’s feeble protestations. “No buts. Just. Let me do this, Wonwoo.” He tilts his head, his handsome face creased with worry.

Wonwoo just nods silently, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as he waits for the server to wrap his noodle soup up to go.

The bill arrives, and Wonwoo watches Seungcheol fumble with the wallet in his hand, trying to tug out the appropriate bills to cover everything. In his haste, a small card pops out of the fold, and Wonwoo wouldn’t have paid any attention to it had he not seen his name flit past.

“Wonwoo, don’t—”

Seungcheol reaches out to take the card, but Wonwoo, despite his recent lethargy, is quicker. He brings the card to his eyes and reads it silently.

_‘Dear Mr. Choi, Mr. Kwon is erasing Mr. Jeon from his memory. Please never contact him or mention their relationship ever again. Signed, ImCorp.’_

He feels a hand land on his shoulder, steer him outside the restaurant. “Wonwoo, I don’t—”

“Hyung. Hyung, what is this?”

Seungcheol sighs, the years between them suddenly evident in the deep grooves of his knitted eyebrows. “Wonwoo, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

There’s a tightness clutching at Wonwoo’s chest, he can’t breathe. “What does that mean, he’s erasing me from his memory, who—who else got these?”

“Everyone,” Seungcheol confirms quietly. “I think pretty much everyone.”

Wonwoo starts to breathe in and out, quicker and quicker. Seungcheol tries to reach out to him but he knocks Seungcheol’s hand away, angry. “So everyone was just going to let me go around like an idiot, thinking about him every waking second when he—when he’s already erased me?” His voice starts out quiet, reed-thin, but escalates with every passing second. He’s teetering on a tightrope, and he knows that Seungcheol is afraid he’s going to fall no matter what he does.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

“And what the fuck kind of procedure is this, is this even possible?” Hysteria is tightening its grip around his throat, causing him to grip at Seungcheol’s shoulders, wide-eyed and unseeing.

“Wonwoo, please,” Seungcheol tries to hold onto him. “Breathe with me. Breathe.”

He tries to do just that, and the dizziness abates, just a little.

Seungcheol begins again, trying to be persuasive and comforting at the same time. “Wonwoo, I don’t know what this procedure is, but do you really want to find out? Isn’t it just better if you move on too?”

When he’s greeted with silence, Seungcheol pats him gently on the back. “I’m sorry Wonwoo.” Quietly, he hands Wonwoo his takeout, and waits for Wonwoo to take it, before he leaves him at the doorstep of his building.

Mind blank and eyes unseeing, Wonwoo turns and looks up at the entrance of his apartment. He stands there, quiet, while the leaves around him start to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at @historiologies on twt now. Let me know if you like it? Thanks.


End file.
